


Customer Service

by neoncity



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Gen, Matt Murdock is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is a Mess, Team Dynamics, Team Red, Tired Peter Parker, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, Wade Wilson is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23315710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncity/pseuds/neoncity
Summary: "Were you talking to someone?""..no?""I heard voices""I talk to myself a lot" Peter improvised. "Out loud. Um, it's a real problem, my doctor says so"Too much information Parker. Nice job.Peter didn't know why in the everloving fuck Deadpool was passed out in the middle of the coffeeshop he worked in before opening time, but Peter was not having a fun time trying to keep an unconcious mercenary hidden from his coworker while simultaneously running a cafe.Peter was going to murder Wade.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 192





	Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this y'all so I really hope you enjoyy

Saturday mornings _sucked_.

To be fair, it wasn't the Saturday morning part of it that sucked, hell, Peter had used to love Saturday mornings. But that was before, before Peter had been forced to pick up a part time job at this stupid cutesy perfect coffee shop at the corner of the street to be able to make ends meet. Not to be a stereotypical broke college student or anything. 

And, guess who had to wake up extra early to open it up on Saturday??

Ding ding ding, it was Peter.

It really was a testament to Peter's coffee deprived self that morning that he managed to open the cafe, walk all the way across it and behind the counter to the room marked off with a taped piece of paper on the door as "staff only", grab the broom, bucket of water and rag to start cleaning in preparation of having to open, go back into the main part of the cafe and then and only _then_ notice Deadpool lying on the floor under a table.

The first thing Peter did was swear loudly, dropping the bucket that clattered to the ground and rolled away, spilling water all over the floor and Peter's shoes.

It took Peter a second to register that yes, Deadpool was indeed lying under a table and yes, he'd been there the whole time and hadn't just materialized out of thin air and _yes_ , Peter was more sleep deprived than he'd thought if he'd managed to walk past Deadpool the first time without noticing.

The sleep deprivation part of that last one was - probably- definitely avoidable, but look, Peter had been spidermanning for way longer than he'd been working here, you couldn't expect him to change his entire spiderman schedule for a job, could you?

-You definitely could, but that was besides the point-

He made himself a coffee.

Partly to make up for the scarce three hours of sleep he'd gotten that night, and partly to brace himself to having to deal with one Wade fucking Wilson.

Peter had quite a high bullshit factor, if he was being honest. Customer service and Spiderman did that to you. But there was only so much of it Peter could deal with on a daily basis.  
And if he wanted to survive a morning of having to deal with customers and not cut a bitch, he absolutely could _not_ waste all his patience on Wade.

Coffee downed and overturned bucket picked up, Peter glanced towards the table Wade was under. Yup. Still there. He figured it had been a long shot to hope Wade would've dissapeared in the few minutes he'd had his back turned.

Well, there was no time like the present, right?

Upon closer inspection, and by closer inspection Peter meant dragging Wade out from under the table, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake, it looked like this was going to be harder than he'd anticipated. The Deadpool mask didn't make it easy to see whether or not Wade was effectively awake, but Peter didn't actually have to take it off to know if he was conscious or not. Tricks he'd picked up from Matt over the years, he supposed.

Having given up, at least momentarily, on getting Wade to wake up, Peter got to his feet, hands on his hips, and surveyed the cafe. Where had Wade even come in from, anyway? There was no clear forced way in, and while Wade _was_ skilled in being stealthy, Peter doubted whatever train of events ended with passing out under a table in a cafe would include a well planned entrance. 

Or maybe he'd finally learned his lesson in property damage Peter and Matt had been trying to teach him forever?  
Possible, but not likely. Especially since Peter suspected the sole reason Wade was actually here in the first place was to make Peter's life hell.

Two minutes later, Peter had tried every trick in the book to get him to wake up, but by some fucked up miracle, Wade was still out cold.  
The only thing he hadn't tried yet was throwing water into his face, but Peter was not overly keen on getting even more water on the floor -he still had to clean up the water he'd spilled earlier when dropping the bucket.  
Could Wade even physically get knocked unconscious? Apparently so??

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to scream.

His original plan had been to wake Wade up and throw him out of the cafe and be done with it. Surprise surprise, nothing involving Wade Wilson or Peter's horrible luck ever went that smoothly.

That left Peter with a few options.  
Option one: throw Wade out regardless, concious or not.

Option two: move him to the back room for the time being. Peter was the only one working this morning, as the other person who usually had this shift with him was sick, so no one else would be walking into the back room at least till noon, and that would leave a few hours either for Wade to wake up and find a way to leave on his own before Peter could commit his murder, or, at the very least, for Peter to figure out what to do.

Option three: ???

It was just down to two options in the end.

It was only 6.23 am, but the levels on Peter's bullshit-o-meter were already at at least half.  
He had stuff to do and little time.

One one hand, option one was the most appealing, but on the other, Peter couldn't just throw fucking _Deadpool_ out onto the street. That would involve the police getting called and drama, and while Wade could handle himself, Peter didn't need those kinds of theatrics in his life.  
He didn't have the time nor the measures to get Wade somewhere else outside, either.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Backroom it was.

Peter picked up Wade by one foot and dragged him towards the backroom. Upon nearing the door he paused, then shrugged, detouring slightly to drag Wade through the water spill. It took a bit of back and forth dragging, powered mostly by spite, but in the end the leather suit absorbed the water surprisingly well, and Peter was left with little more than a slight damp patch on the ground. 

That was one problem solved.

When the cafe opened at 7 am on the dot, there was no sign that there had been an unconcious mercenary on the floor less than half an hour earlier.

Customers slowly started trickling in, and the sheer silence that had dominated the room was quickly replaced by the soft droning of relaxed conversations and the clinking of cups.  
It was a relatively small coffeeshop, so Peter didn't have that much of a problem doing everything on his own, even if it did require quite a bit of rushing around from one end of the counter to the other.

An hour passed without too many problems, and Peter was tempted to go check on Wade. He rested his elbows on the counter in a moment of break -why weren't there any chairs goddamit it-, wondering if he could spare a couple minutes to poke his head into the backroom.

"Hi!" A voice greeted him. Peter looked up, putting on his customer service smile, then stopped.  
"Olivia?"

Olivia was a cheerful, responsible, twenty two year old fellow college student that had started working here at around the same time Peter had. She worked on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, a few hours in the morning and a few late in the evening, and her shifts often overlapped with Peter's. 

So she definitely was not supposed to be here.  
Today.  
Right now. 

Or, well, any time today in general but that was besides the point.

Fuck.

"Heeey, Olivia, what are you, uh, what are you doing here?" He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to sound nonchalant.

She looped an apron over her head, quickly tying the straps behind her back.  
"Well, I've got a shift here today"

"Daniel usually has this shift with me" Peter pointed out.

Olivia gathered her hair up in a loose ponytail.  
"Oh, Daniel is sick"

That Peter knew.

"So Mr. Harris swapped this shift of his with mine on Monday"

 _That_ , Mr. Harris had neglected to mention.

She smiled at Peter brightly, unaware of the inner crisis she was giving him.  
"I have an assignment due on Tuesday, too, so this swap gives me more time to work on it on Monday. It all works out in the end, win win situation for everyone involved."

Right.  
Win win situation for everyone involved.

More like win win situation for everyone involved except Peter. The universe was determined to make him suffer, it seemed.

He slid a hand into the pocket of his apron, the keys to the back room cold against his skin, and was silently grateful that he'd had the foresight to at least lock the room.  
All he had to do now was prevent Olivia from entering the back room for the next four hours. No biggie, right?

Peter's shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor as he scooped ice into a cup. Why someone would want an iced latte on an windy autumn almost winter morning was beyond him. But look, he wasn't here to judge other people's bad decisions. He had enough of those on his own.

Olivia glanced at him. "Why are your shoes wet?"

"Dropped a bucket of water earlier while I was cleaning the place"

"Oh, that sucks"

Peter nodded absently, plopping a lid onto the drink and handing it to the customer along with a straw. 

"We're out of ice, by the way."

He waited till the customer was out of earshot before adding the second part.

"Though I doubt anyone else will order an iced drink in this weather"

"Better safe than sorry" Olivia said, reaching a hand towards the door to the back room.  
Before she could open it, Peter leapt in front of her, earning a well deserved odd look.

"Oh, I can get it" Peter said.

Olivia's brows furrowed. "Okaay?"

Peter pointed at the door, relieved for once to have someone come in, a harried looking young woman.  
"Can you get her?"

"Okay"

It took a few seconds of jingling with the keys to get the right one. Maybe Aunt May had really been onto something when she'd insisted on color coding all their keys.

Though, in all reality, Peter knew he was too lazy to actually sit down one day and sort his keys out. 

"Why'd you lock the back room?" Olivia called.

Peter flashed her an awkward smile, probably making him look even more like an idiot than he already had.  
"You know, so no one goes in?"

"It's behind the counter, though", She pointed out. "No one is going to get here without us noticing anyway. Besides, why would they?"

Good point.

"Better safe than sorry?" Peter tried. He slipped into the back room before she could answer. The harried young woman must have ordered by now, or at least reached the counter, so it was a safe bet that Olivia wouldn't follow him in.

Peter immediately grabbed a bag of ice from the freezer and set it next to the door. He could go back out right away, but Olivia would have her hands full for at least a few minutes, and this was his chance to put Wade somewhere hidden so that even if Olivia did come in, she wouldn't get a heart attack at seeing Deadpool laying in the middle of the backroom.

Out of the blues, Wade groaned, sitting up.  
"Hey Peter"

A wave of relief and annoyance came over Peter.  
"You're a piece of shit" 

"I'm sure that's a very fair statement, but what's the occasion?" 

The amount of bullshit left that Peter could tolerate today was getting dangerously low.

"Why the _fuck_ did I find you passed out in the middle of my work place?" 

"Oh right, that. Okay see-"

Before Wade had a chance to finish, or well, even start, Peter had opened the nearest closet, picked him up and was now unsuccessfully trying to stuff Wade into the too small space within it.

"Okay see, this is very confusing behavior, do you want to know why I'm here or not?"

"Wade shut up" Peter hissed, trying to push him even deeper into the closet. "Someone's coming"

The door opened and Peter froze. Thankfully, from this angle, the open closet door hid the parts of Wade that hadn't made it completely into the closet from sight. Olivia poked her head in. "Hey Peter I just wanted to ask you if-"

She stopped abruptly. "Were you talking to someone?"

"..no?"

"I heard voices" 

"I talk to myself a lot" Peter improvised. "Out loud. Um, it's a real problem, my doctor says so"  
Too much information Parker. Nice job.

Another, once again deserved, odd look from her part.

"Okay? Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if you could also get me some plates?"

"Sure sure"

Something in the closet creaked under Wade's weight, and Peter tensed.  
Please go away please go away please go away.  
"Why's the closet open?" Olivia asked. 

"I was getting ice"

"That's not where we keep ice?"

Great thinking Peter. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back. 

"Yea, but, I couldn't remember where we keep it so I looked around"

He hoped she wouldn't notice the bag of ice sitting against the wall directly to her left. 

"So you decided to look for ice in the non refrigerated closet?" Olivia asked skeptically.

"...correct"

She stepped closer. "Peter are you okay?"

Peter leaned against the closet, trying to look casual. Bad idea. It groaned even more.  
"Yea I'm fine" he said, trying to draw attention away from the closet.  
Judging by Olivia's pursed expression, he figured she didn't believe him.  
He gave her a thumbs up to try to diffuse the situation.  
"I'll get you the plates"

Olivia pointed to her right, at the freezer standing in plain sight. "The freezer's there, by the way"  
"Got it"  
Peter gave her another thumbs up, which, accompanied by a forced smile, probably made him look like a maniac.  
With a last doubtful look, she closed the door, and Peter breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

Peter wasn't going to live this one down any time soon, was he. 

Wade shuffled, knocking a pack of napkins to the floor.  
"Why am I wet?" 

"I used you as a mop earlier- give me that"  
Peter snatched a glass from Wade's hand before he could break it.

"You used me as a _mop_?"

Peter grabbed another trio of cups off the shelf above Wade's head before he could knock those off too, setting them on a nearby table.

"Yea, I-that's not the point Wade whatareyoudoinghere??"

"Am l allowed to exit the closet?" 

Peter glared at him. Wade took that as a yes.  
He stepped out, raising both hands above his head and stretching. "Anyway, as I was saying-"

"You", Peter said, grabbing a small stack of round plates for Olivia out of the cupboard, "Are going to stay right here, and not make a sound until I figure out how to get you out of here, or you can leave on your own without making a sound"

Wade pointed at the door.  
"Oh that's easy, the exit is right there"

"How to get you out _without making a scene_ "

"Ah yes, that's quite different" Wade agreed.

Peter needed to go back out now, he was fresh out of excuses -not that the ones he'd used so far had been stellar to begin with either- and the more time passed the more the chance of Olivia coming back in increased.

"Do you have your phone on you?" He asked.

"Yea"

"Okay, good, I'll text you when I have time"

"Or we can just talk here"

Peter backed away towards the door, balancing the plates on one hand and picking up the ice with the other.

"I'm supposed to be working, Wade. And I've already made the scene of being the idiot who couldn't find a freezer in plain sight and talks to himself, I'm not about to have her come in again to find me talking to the closet too"

"Well, you could always run with your talking to yourself doctor excuse-"

"Wade."

"Shutting up."

Peter gave Wade a warning look before exiting. "Don't fuck shit up"

Wade saluted sarcastically. "Yessir"

"You couldn't find the plates either?" Olivia asked him.  
Peter handed them to her and poured the ice into the small freezer under the counter. "Something like that"

It quickly became evident that Peter would not have the opportunity to text Wade anytime soon. There was just too much going on, customers to serve, someone needed to man the cash register, for Peter to be able to pull out his phone and have a full conversation with an idiot. After fifteen minutes, he told Olivia he was taking a bathroom break and excused himself.

The small, one stall staff bathroom was unlikely to be overheard in, so Peter went ahead and called Wade directly, as it was faster than text.

A quiet "oh fuck", faint hollow sounds of someone knocking against metal and the sound of fabric being dragged along a surface greeted Peter.  
"...Wade?"

"Oh hey Petey Pie! I was going to wait for you, I really was, but you were taking so long and I got things to do, places to be, all that shit so I figured I'd just leave and I could meet you later today for the thing I actually came here for?"

"Where _are_ you?"

"Vents"

Ah.  
Of course.

"Is that how you got in, too?"

"Maybe? Probably?"

Peter listened to the shuffling sounds for a couple of seconds.  
"How on earth did you fit your katanas into the vents?"

"Oh I just-"

"Actually I don't want to know" Peter cut him off, reconsidering.

"Suit yourself"

Peter rubbed his forehead, feeling his headache lessen. That was the biggest of his current problems gone, or, at least, on it's way out.  
"Why'd you come here in the first place?"  
He'd assumed Wade had come to fuck with him, but from what he was hearing, he'd actually had a reason for coming.

"Ohh I'll tell you later. Both because it's a surprise and because I'm kinda in a sticky situation right now"

More shuffling, then Wade cackled.

"Get it. Sticky situation. Because you're-"

"That joke got old years ago"

"Fair enough. Anyway, I've got to get going, and you should get back to your job, so see you tonight!"

A loud beep sounded as Wade hung up. Peter stared at the phone and sighed.  
One day, either Peter was going to kill Wade or Wade was going to kill Peter, and Peter honestly wasn't sure which one he preferred.

___

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the cold wind.  
"My coworker thinks I'm a bumbling idiot now, so thanks for that" He told Wade.

"You are a bumbling idiot though. I just opened her eyes to the truth"

" _Wade_ "

Wade held up both hands in surrender. "All right all right"

"You owe me one for this morning"

Wade tossed him an envelope. "This should cover it"

Peter hefted the envelope in one hand, feeling it's shape and weight, with a sinking suspicion he knew what it contained.

"Wade."

"Open ittt"

Money. As expected, but holy shit. Bills upon bills of money. 

"Wade what the fuck"

"Money!"

"Is this what you broke into my job for?"

Wade bobbed his head.  
"Yea. I wanted to surprise you with it before your shift, but, following a long story I don't have time to tell you right now, I ended up passing out on the floor"

"I noticed" Peter said dryly. "Wade, why"

"I know you've been struggling with money lately, so, you know, to help you out"

Peter hesitated.  
"I can't take this."

"You can and you will"

Peter was startled by the intensity in his voice. 

"Peter, I don't know how you're handling college, Spiderman _and_ a part time job all at the same time, but it'll kill you. Either one of the first two alone is heavy as it is, both with a part time job to top it off is insane. 

"It's not _that_ bad-"

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

Harsh, but fair.

"Three hours" Peter mumbled.

"See? Take the money you idiot"

" _I can't_ I"

Wade shrugged.  
"Even if you don't, that money will find it's way into your bank account. In one way or another you're getting it. Your call"

"I'm-"

Wade smacked him over the head with a wad of bills. "Take the moneyyyyy Peteyyy"

"Is that even legally obtained money?"

"Well. If it makes you feel better half of it is from Matt's very legal professional job"

"It does make me feel better" Peter admitted.

Wade brightened. "So you'll take it?"

"I-"

Peter didn't have the energy to try to turn down something he really desperately needed.  
Peter sighed. "I guess"

Wade pumped his fist into the air. "Yes!"

Peter surprised Wade by wrapping him quickly into a hug.  
"Thank you"

Wade returned the hug.  
"Don't mention it kid"

After a second or two, Peter pulled away.  
"Where's Matt? Surely he could've come up with a more civilized way of giving me money than the stunt you pulled"

"Working on some court thing. You know how he is. And how dare you call my methods uncivilized"

Peter smiled at the night sky.  
"Can you please tell me how you ended up passed out under the table. I'm dying to know the chain of events that lead to that"

"Well, it all started when..."


End file.
